the princess and the scoundrel
by elsoor
Summary: han solo and leia organa drabbles. romance, family, angst, hurt/comfort, adventure, you name it. its here. all AU: no mention of the sequel trilogy.
1. big news

Leia Organa wasn't sure whether she had ever smiled this much in the whole of her life. She was practically radiant as she approached her and her husband's apartment on Chandrila. She could feel his presence inside the apartment, and it warmed her from the inside out. Gods, she couldn't wait to share this news with him, to see his reaction, to listen to his words.

Unwilling to dig around in her shoulder bag for her key, she opted to press the doorbell and waited with a rather impatient feeling in the pit of her stomach. She couldn't hear his footsteps on the other side of the wall due to their asking for privacy in sound proof walls, but she could feel as his presence grew a little brighter, and knew that he'd approached the door and seen from the security cam it was her.

Opening the door, he grinned at her with the lopsided smile she'd once found infuriating, and now irresistible. "You're late, sweetheart."

"Sorry for having to make you wait," she said as she passed him, pulling herself up on her tiptoes to place a quick peck on his lips.

Careful, she chided herself. If you get too into this, you'll never get round to actually telling him.

She wasn't thinking straight as she pulled him down for another kiss, making sure the door had slid shut behind her before she pulled him against her. She was comforted by his presence and she wanted to bask in it.

"Woah there, princess," he murmured against her lips, but offered no resistance as she pulled him closer and wound her fingers into his hair.

She pulled back slightly, combing his hair back over his head gently as she studied his face. "Where were you, sweetheart?"

Tell him! she urged herself.

She swam there in the depths of his beautiful hazel eyes for a few moments before pulling herself out of her stupor and pressing a light kiss to his nose. "The meeting finished early and I...I visited the medic."

Immediately, Han's body stiffened against hers and his eyes widened.

"Why? Are you hurt?" His hazel eyes skimmed the entirety of her body, looking for any faint clues of injury. She wondered for a moment whether her stomach was visible to him. From her angle, it was still normal, but she wondered how if looked to him.

"I'm fine, Han," she reassured him, feeling the tension drain from his muscles as he looped his arms back around her waist and leaned into her.

"In fact," she added, "I'm more than fine." She could feel his slight irritation at her lack of explanation, but she was enjoying drawing it out and knew she would enjoy the look of realisation it would bring to her husband's face soon.

His eyebrows furrowed and he gazed at her, puzzled. "What was wrong?"

"I started feeling sick and queasy again, not long after I had that virus," she explained, dropping one of her hands from his hair to his face, tracing the line of his jaw down to the scar on his chin which she kissed gently. "I thought I'd better make sure it wasn't something worse."

"And?"

"And," she said, speaking softer now, but still just as clear so that he could hear her, "the medic said the symptoms were unmistakable. I took a few tests."

She took a deep breath and locked eyes with him. His hazel, gold flecked eyes did not stray from hers.

"Han," she said, "I'm pregnant."


	2. how did we get here?

"How did we get here, Han?"

For a second, Leia expected him to respond with some smart-ass comment about how they'd hidden the ship on a Star Destroyer and slyly flown away with a trail of garbage — not the answer she was looking for.

He surprised her. Typical Han Solo; he never wanted to be predictable.

"You know what, Leia?" he said, wrapping his arms around her waist and pressing a kiss to her lips. "I have no kriffing idea."


	3. introductions

"I didn't think you were a drinker, princess."

She sighs, lifting the bottle to her lips once more. "Me neither."

There is silence as she drinks, and Han opens his mouth to say something to stop her from doing something she'll regret — he doesn't know why, but he feels a sudden responsibility when he's around the princess. Maybe it's because she's still a teenager — at least, he assumes she is — and therefore she's young and reckless.

He knows she can hold her own in a fight. But a fight against herself? He is doubtful.

Before he can say anything, though, she speaks up once more, from around the rim of the bottle.

"It's not usual for me. But then —" She laughs when she says this, but not a whole hearted laugh, more of a weary sigh "— what is the usual for me anymore?" She takes another sip. "Someone once told me that people drink to take their pain away. I never thought I'd be here, doing exactly that, to take away the pain of their loss."

Han's hand connects with the bottle and he slips it out of her grasp. "That's enough, don't you think?"

"Nowhere near."

He sits down beside her, takes a sip of the wine, and then shudders. He pulls a disgusted face for her benefit and sets it down at his feet. "You're really drinking that crap?"

She doesn't respond, instead retrieves the bottle.

"Listen. It's true that some people drink to take their pain away. I'd be lying if I said I didn't count myself among them. But I'll tell you this, princess: it's temporary. It's a temporary release from reality and then, all of a sudden, reality looms over you once more and, I tell you from experience, it's even worse. It's temporary."

"Nothing's permanent," she whispers. "Nothing lasts forever, Han, I know that."

His first thought is: damn, this girl is wiser than I thought.

His second: she knows my name.

"You're right about that," he says.

She eyes him a second, as if studying him properly for the first time. Then she gives him a small, wry smile and tips her bottle towards him as if to toast him.

"You know," she says, "you're not what i expected."

He grins. This princess is not what he expected either — she's not a stereotypical damsel in distress, and he likes that. He likes her.

"I knew you'd warm up to me."

Her eyes narrow a little. "Even though you're arrogant."

"Tell me about it." He winks at her.

She smirks a little, and turns her gaze to the half empty bottle. She considers it for a moment, then leans forward and throws it as far as she can. There's a faint echo as it comes into contact with the ground.

"You're right. That wine was crap."

She turns to him again and sticks out her hand. "Leia Organa. Princess and senator turned rebel."

He accepts her hand, shaking it firmly. "Han Solo. Smuggler, Corellian, pilot, captain of the Millennium Falcon."


End file.
